I spent yesterday afternoon having my mouth prodded by sharp instruments and learning that the pain shooting up into my ear may mean I need to have a crown yanked off and a root canal revisited. Which goes to show I should’ve forgone the dental work and just bought the goddamned Harley.
Until I pull myself together, please consult the usual sources for book news, and read about Dana’s night guard mishaps. (What’s left of my own plastic bite piece — I’ve nearly bored holes through it in my sleep — keeps falling down the crack between the bed and the wall. I won’t tell you what I have to dig through in the middle of the night to find it.) Back soon.